Member News
By Sam Macrory - 9th December 2010
David Cameron isn’t allowed to listen to his favourite music. Namely The Smiths – because Morrissey and Johnny Marr, the band’s leading men, say so.
At yesterday’s prime minister’s questions, he didn’t seem too worried at the ban, happily telling Labour’s Kerry McCarthy that angry students – back in protesting mode today – probably wouldn’t identify him with The Smith’s 1983 single “This Charming Man”.
With the looming vote on higher education funding hanging oppressively over the Commons, MPs of every party might feel the same. It seemed to have an effect on the mood in the chamber, as everyone took a swipe at everyone else - except of course for those grim-faced Parliamentary punch-bags, the Liberal Democrats.
A livelier Ed Miliband attacked the prime minister for supporting rising fees. Obvious enough. David Cameron, hardly sparkling, naturally swatted him back. The Labour leader also took an impossible-to-miss dig at the Liberal Democrats. So far, so expected.
But David Cameron then appeared to do the same. “One party has had the courage of its convictions to see this through”, Cameron crowed after a week of Liberal Democrat agonising over whether to vote for the government plans to raise tuition fees. That’s not in the coalition agreement, surely. Aren’t they all in this together?
Nick Clegg, the Lib Dem leader, and Vince Cable, the business secretary, sat either side of the prime minister as coalition partner book ends. Both looked in need of a holiday.
“He’s given it away!”, Miliband delightedly replied as he pointed an accusatory finger at a thoroughly depressed-looking bench of Liberal Democrats, amongst them Bob Russell, John Leech, and John Pugh, three MPs who have confirmed that they will vote against the government and with their party’s pre-election pledge. Where does the PM rank that on the courage scale?
In a week in which a much-derided four letter C-word moved to above-the pale status in Parliamentary language, this six letter P-word remains firmly in the must-never-be-spoken category when in the company of traumatised Liberal Democrats. Strange then, that David Cameron did just.
“Why are they breaking their pledge about the Browne review?” Cameron asked Miliband, focusing on Labour’s pre-election backing of Lord Browne’s proposal to raise tuition fees.
At the sound of the pledge-word the Lib Dem faces turned gloomier still , but this was something else for Labour to cheer. Unused to making verbal slip-ups, Cameron went personal.
“He’s behaving like a student politician”, the prime minister snapped.
“I was a student politician”, Miliband replied. “But I wasn’t hanging around with people who were throwing rolls and wrecking restaurants.” Cameron threw his order paper on the dispatch box; he hates being reminded of his white tie-wearing days as that charmless man. Labour MPs screamed with delight at the prospect of class-baiting. A grin – perhaps of relief – fixed itself on Miliband’s face. That his party actually did support the Browne review just a few months ago seems a minor inconvenience; that Miliband, like Cameron, studied PPE at Oxford is also a minor detail.
The tension eased as a series of MPs tried, and partly-succeeded, in showing off their comic credentials.
The DUP’s Nigel Dodds came up with the joke of the day, describing an organization which ‘says one thing and does another" with "a leader more interested in power and prestige than accountability.” Signposted but well-punch-lined: if he wasn’t talking about FIFA, the world football body who had the nerve NOT to let England host the world cup, then who could this figure be? Nick Clegg pretended to laugh.
Jack Dromey, standing up to a chorus of groans which once used to greet Clegg in his former guise as Lib Dem leader in opposition, lost his way in an overly long question with an underwhelming conclusion along the lines of whether Nick Clegg was an imposter. Again, Clegg rolled his head in uncomfortable mock laughter. In between, Two Lib Dem MPs – Don Foster and Ian Swales – rose to ask questions; both played it safe. But as Clegg walked out of the chamber, he left without so much as a glance to that unhappy front row of his party colleagues.
It could be worse. At least he’s still allowed to listen to the Smiths. With tonight’s vote looming, theirs is the type of introspective, gloomy music that might suit his mood. I recommended “Please, please, please, let me get what I want” to start with.
Have your say...
Please enter your comments below.